


A Bot Patch Job

by scalematesays



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Gen, Impromptu Surgery, Needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27713989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scalematesays/pseuds/scalematesays
Summary: Jake gets himself into some trouble on Hell Murder Island, and the only other humanoid thing comes to his rescue. He was attacked by one of the many lusii on the island, and it's up to Brobot to keep him alive. After having a patch uploaded by Dirk, Brobot is suddenly able to stitch Jake up, though not exactly good-as-new, and Jake lives to tell the tale -- and maybe thank Brobot later.Brobot's design is based off of Instagram artist Mayceart's design, including multiple retractable arms, a control element in which he can be temporarily controlled by Dirk, and a speaker for Dirk to talk through when he deigns to do so.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	A Bot Patch Job

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request by a lovely friend of mine, and is relatively short. The depiction of the impromptu stitching job isn't too graphic and I glazed past it as much as possible, but please be warned! Thanks for reading!

Though his vision was hazy, whenever Jake English could force his eyes open slightly, he could just make out sunlight streaming through broad leaves streaking by him. It was confusing enough for the young man’s brows to furrow as his eyes slid shut again, though that did little to help his situation overall -- the sunlight was out of his eyes, but the pain in his stomach still caused his jaw to tighten and his teeth to grind in response to an agony Jake had never known before. With the slight jostling, and the feeling of something hard and warm against the backs of his knees and shoulders, Jake could only assume two things: that he’d passed out momentarily and that he was now being carried by… something. 

Only a small number of creatures on this island would carry him somewhere rather than deign to tear into his skin immediately, and just one of those provided an ultimate fate that Jake could stand. Briefly, the sound of static and snippets of a voice Jake recognized cut through his thoughts, confirming what he hadn’t been daring to hope -- Brobot had found him. As a result of this cosmic confirmation, Jake allowed himself to relax minutely, though his expression was still pained. “Hold on-- ...uploading a patch,” came a sound from the speaker. Then another, more cohesive statement: “You’re bound to have a needle and thread somewhere.”

It was the last thing he heard before his grip on consciousness slipped and faltered once more.

When he came to again, some of the pain had subsided, but not all of it. Jake awoke to find himself lying flat on his back looking up at the blue sky unhindered by the tops of trees. He was in his clearing, as the vines of his pumpkin patch digging uncomfortably into his back made him aware, and he wasn’t entirely sure for a split second how he’d gotten there. Then, as he attempted to sit up, Jake fell back again with a sharp yelp of pain as the memories began to resurface. 

He’d been surprised -- he remembered that much. There had been something lying in wait in the foliage that he hadn’t noticed. It had been small, Jake was sure, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t managed to slice him good before he’d managed to get away. Stumbling through the undergrowth trying desperately to type for help while holding onto his stomach hadn’t exactly been the most fun experience of his life, and Jake winced at the memory. However, he was only allowed to contemplate what had happened that day for a few more moments before the glint of metal caught at the corner of his eye. Immediately, that sense of relief from before returned as Brobot shifted to be well within Jake’s line of sight. His glasses had thankfully remained unharmed.

One of his extra arms had been deployed and was carrying a bucket of water -- the same bucket Jake recognized as the one he used to water his pumpkins -- while the other two were occupied with what appeared to be tattered remains of the shirt he’d been wearing earlier that day as well as with an old spool of thread. The thread wasn’t something he recognized, and briefly, Jake wondered where his robot companion had found it. After flashing Brobot a slightly-strained grin, he attempted to look down at himself to observe the damage with his own two eyes.

Oh, now that was ugly. The mere first glance was enough to make Jake a little queasy! Where there had previously been a smooth, mostly-uninterrupted expanse of dark skin, there was now the torn remainder of his shirt -- whatever wasn’t in Brobot’s hand, he figured out instantly -- tied tightly around his midsection, half soaked-through with blood. This certainly explained the extent of his discomfort the vines beneath him couldn’t account for and his slight difficulty breathing, but it also explained just why he wasn’t… well… 

A firm hand pressed against his forehead, and Jake was more relieved than he’d like to admit about being ushered to lie flat. Now a second extra arm was extended, and Jake was for once content to lie still as Brobot placed the bucket down before sitting cross-legged next to it. The bot’s knees were nearly touching Jake’s side they were so close, and its interface shades crackled as it used its newly-free hand to start peeling back the blood-stuck shirt stuck to his skin. Jake watched it idly dip the clean shreds of his shirt into the bucket of water in preparation for a cleaning, and though he knew he probably shouldn’t tense up for this, Jake couldn’t help his teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

“Er… I sure hope you know what you’re doing! I’ve already taken quite the clobbering today my automatous chum, and I must say, as a result I am certainly not looking forward to any manhandling!” The complaint was empty, and while Jake couldn’t tell whether or not Brobot knew that for certain, the fact that he only received a single glance was evidence enough that the robot was focused. Still, Jake prattled on, apparently not injured enough to be silenced. “Maybe I should try to keep your robofeelings intact and whatnot. Whoops.”

Suddenly, a bit of soaked cloth was being pressed to the corner of the wound, and Jake instantly reached for a vine to grasp onto as he took a sharp inhale, released shakily only a few moments later. The initial impromptu bandage job had been untied and was being pulled back steadily as Brobot dabbed and attempted to clean Jake off as best he could without genuine medical supplies. Jake couldn’t help but to ramble, albeit with a number of expletives -- it distracted him, gave him something to focus on besides the pain and the calm firmness of Brobot’s hand on his forehead keeping him down. “Devilfucking Dickens!! I should have known in retrospect that the old trail I found wasn’t analogous to the yellow brick road! You must think me a right doofus, a fella not fit for the exploration trade.”

No response. There never really was with Brobot, though Jake had no doubt at this point that Dirk was at least checking in here and there; this particular bot was incapable of speech by itself, though the speaker at the back of its neck was utilized here and there by random audio clips and Dirk himself. Instead, Brobot seemed laser-focused on the cut. Jolts of pain washed over Jake each time the wet cloth touched his skin, and soon enough tears were beginning to prick at the corner of his eyes as he held tightly to one of the vines and dug his teeth further into his bottom lip. He’d been through similar situations plenty of times before, though he’d always taken care of himself, so Jake was unsurprised when Brobot produced a needle from somewhere after dumping the now-soaked cloth into the bucket of water. 

This wasn’t to say that he was exactly prepared to kickstart the healing process, per-se. His eyes followed deft mechanical fingers as Brobot threaded the needle with little problem, his shades floating slightly further from his face than usual to simulate that he was no-doubt hyper zoomed-in on the eye of the needle. While he’d done everything from giving himself badly-done stitches to just washing out a minor cut, Jake had never had a cut this bad. He hated to admit it, but he was definitely terrified of this, and the way his knuckles were white around a vine proved it even without his stammering. “Ooooohhh Neytiri, oh no- Brobot, you have no possible way to fathom what I’m saying but hold the phone on that one! Um- fuck!”

Only as Jake was reaching critical levels of anxiety did the bot look at his face for longer than a split second, and if it had had eyes, they would have locked with Jake’s. Most of what he had to say died on his lips right then and there as Brobot’s movements seemed to stop -- all except for the slight tilt of his robotic head and the fizzling of those glowing red shades. Then, Brobot seemed to nod just slightly. 

Before Jake could even open his mouth to question why exactly the bot had nodded, he felt the hand on his forehead lift, and momentarily Jake’s expression shifted into further confusion. Then he felt metal fingers in his hair, dragging gently from his hairline and up, lifting, and repeating. The sensation was something Jake was unused to and thus his shoulders instinctively flinched upward, but he was quickly able to relax them again as he realized what the bot was doing. It was petting his hair for the first time, presumably to provide some semblance of comfort. 

A few shaky breaths and hair pets later, Jake was doing his best to overcome his initial shock and to anticipate the needle that was still held in one of Brobot’s four deployed hands. Right. Steady breathing, something to hold onto, these were both things Jake was choosing to focus on rather than his fear of the pain. With only a few more moments saved for preparation, he watched as Brobot’s attention went back to the needle and it disappeared from his line of sight. Its metal, cool in comparison to the warm hum of the robot’s machinery, was comforting for a split second. But then the fingers in his hair curled and kept his head down as Brobot’s two remaining hands moved to keep Jake’s chest and hip still as the first suture was made.

The pain wasn’t quite unbearable, though Jake couldn’t contain a choked-off shout as his eyes squeezed shut. He would give just about anything to have still been unconscious at this point! It was awful, feeling the thick thread be dragged through a set of puncture wounds and his skin being tugged into place by the swift, fluid motions of Brobot’s hand. The next suture was easier now that Jake wasn’t tense from anticipation alone, but that didn’t mean it was any less painful. As the minutes dragged on, tears began to leak from Jake’s eyes and it grew more and more difficult to keep in the sniffles as well as the curses that gathered on his tongue. Yet the hand in his hair continued to be a slight source of comfort, as every now and then, Brobot would provide Jake’s scalp with a short-lived massage. 

By the end of the stitching process, the young man was shaking all over, his throat was dry, and the hand that had been tightly gripping the vine was completely numb. A quick draw of Brobot’s sword, which Jake had never before seen in action, sliced the remaining thread from the spool. The moment the sword was sheathed again, Jake gave a halting sigh. It was over now, at least for the most part. As expected, Brobot reached into the bucket to wring out the wet cloth and wipe away the remainder of the blood on Jake’s skin. He realized only then, when it was really over and he was clean, that he had never felt more drained and tired in his entire life. 

It took another few minutes and Brobot’s help, but soon enough Jake had hobbled his way to the doorway of what remained of his childhood house and the place he’d spent the last decade. Shirtless and still clutching his stomach area protectively, he gripped what served as a doorframe to steady himself as he turned his head behind him. By now, Brobot’s two extra limbs had been retired, and the bot simply stood hovering a few inches behind him. There was silence for a long few moments, but eventually Jake brought himself to speak. He still wasn’t sure what Brobot was capable of understanding even though he’d put him together from parts Dirk had sent, but he had manners enough to give a sentiment anyways. “Thank you. You’re a good pal.”

With that, Jake turned to hobble his way inside. Only when he was fully enveloped by the shadows of the hallway leading to his room did he turn back once more, squinting at the area of daylight he’d left behind. But Brobot had already gone. 

Oh well. He’d see him again soon enough.


End file.
